Not Really Hard at All
by lillelouis
Summary: Were the boys worried about the woman praying to God and Angels for help while they were around? Not really. Tag to Dog Dean Afternoon and Bad Boys.


AN: A happy one...for a change?

Full Summary: _Were the boys worried about the woman praying to God and Angels for help while they were around? Not really. Was Sam catching on that something was up with his brother – and that it possibly had been for some time: a resounding yes. Lies start sticking together once you tell the first one, until they become a web so thick they obscure your view of true north. Tag to Dog Dean Afternoon and Bad Boys._

* * *

Not Really Hard at All

"Sam's sad," The Colonel said in his oddly gruff voice. Funny, Dean had expected him to sound less…manly.

"What."

"Your brother's sad."

The repeat made Dean do a double take. "_What_?" It was ridiculous. Sam wasn't sad. He was slightly loopy from just having his neck ripped open and a pint drained from him, despite not remembering it, but he wasn't _sad_. No way. "No he's not."

The dog did an equivalent of a non-committal shrug. "Whatever, Hoss," It looked away at something Dean wasn't privy to. "I'm just the animal with heightened senses," It looked back. "What do _I_ know."

* * *

Man it was weird seeing Dean's bed like that. And….oddly comforting, Sam had to admit. But these days so was everything. Weird, worrying even, and at the same time comforting. It was like coming back, he supposed.

For Dean it literally was. Coming back to Sonny and the boys' home. Everywhere he looked Sam imagined he saw imprints left by him. He could only guess how many his brother had actually left. Including the carved bed-posts.

The consequent noise was almost expected along with the rush of adrenaline, but Ruth was a surprise. She seemed nice enough, but like she could be scary when she wanted. She prayed, she said. Sam had a fleeting moment of panic where he almost reached for the knife again.

"Don't tell them we're here when you do?" His request freaked her out, because…well why wouldn't it? She was devout, but she was sane. She spoke to God and had no experience of Him talking back.

"What?"

"When you pray?"

She nodded.

"Don't tell them we're here," He nodded as well and backed up a bit.

Her confusion changed to something else. Suspicion, Sam would say. He tuned down his threatening posture as much as he possibly could and pulled out The Eyes.

Her mistrust waned a little and she swallowed down whatever she would have asked him. She nodded again and held her rosary a little tighter to her chest.

Sam got the cue and backed out, closing the door behind him. Glancing at Dean's old bed in passing. He wasn't worried about angels right at that moment. For a hunted man he admittedly felt pretty glib about impending wrath, but paranoia had been a close friend for most of his life and it was simply one he had learned to ignore. Watch the signs, but relax when you can. Castiel worried him the most, not having him around made it harder to look after him. Dean had been vague at best after his impromptu hunt and Sam hadn't pressured for details he really wanted.

He had missed his brother for so long. They'd been right next to each other, but it felt like they had only just reunited. He felt protective again. Lenient. Trusting. Good feelings he had never thought he'd get to feel again. Feelings that made him stronger.

He knew Dean was holding something back though it didn't really matter what. _Did it?_ He felt like he could stand to wait a little longer. Trust Dean a little longer. And when the day came, _if_ the day came, then he'd just ask and Dean would tell him. _Wouldn't he?_

Said brother was walking the perimeter when Sam caught up with him. "Hey,"

"Hey. You find anything?"

He shook his head and automatically made for the car. "Nothing noteworthy. You?"

Dean glanced back in the direction of the barn, but shook his head as well. "Think it might be Wasserlauf?" He ran his eyes quick up and down checking for some physical sign Sam was hurt or upset. He hadn't given his brother much thought lately, but maybe that damn dog'd had a point.

Sam nodded with his eyes on where he was walking. Only glancing up quickly to gauge Dean's reaction. "Yeah. Think so."

"Well alright then," He opened the car and slipped in. "So. Hang out a few hours, go dig up Howard and head home?" There was _something_ wrong with his brother.

"Sure."

_Sadness?_ Dean nodded. He flipped the key and inhaled with pursed lips, probably summoning some great display of Winchester wit if Sam was to guess. So, like the new and improved little brother he was Sam sat patiently and waited with just the hint of a smile.

"Hey, you in the mood for pancakes? I'm in mood for pancakes," Dean looked at him with a raised brow.

"What?" It wasn't what he'd been expecting to hear. "What, _now_?"

Dean stuttered a bit and glanced back out the windshield. "No, guess…" He frowned a bit in put-upon petulance. "Guess not," Sparing Sam a glare. "Cranky-pants."

Sam's huffed smirk gave way to an amused smile as his eyes went out the window.

Without further thought they pulled away from the house.

* * *

Dean worried about a lot of extraordinary things. He worried about locking the door whenever he left the bunker. He worried whether or not there was enough toilet paper. He worried about the price of gas. He worried about a certain angel-turned-human-turned-friend-turned-angel-turned-enemy-turned-cookoo-turned-friend-turned-human-again. He worried about the demon in his basement. He worried about the garrison hunting them all down. He worried about the mental stability of the nineteen year old boy currently squatting with two older men in a pre WW2 bunker. He worried about said bunker and what secrets it held that were still a threat.

But mostly he worried about being caught red handed in a lie. Possibly the worst lie he had ever told. Potentially the most harmful. Not to the world, or even the limited inhabitants of the nearest town, mind you. No. Potentially harmful to just _one_ other person.

He stole glances of Sam whilst driving. Darkness was falling and they were making their way out to the cemetery where Wasserlauf was buried. _Silent Springs_ or _Tranquility Hills_ or _Something on a hill_. A boneyard was a boneyard and once you'd seen a partially decomposed body in one you'd seen them all.

"Anything interesting?"

Sam looked over in surprise. That's right; surprise. Because the kid was so deep in thought the sound of a _question_ rocked him. "What? Uh…no. Not really," He looked out the window and tried to catch a sign. "How far out?"

"Not far," Dean wasn't really sure where the yard was, but these things always had a way of working out somehow. "Should be there in a few," He glanced over again. Sam was looking out the window on his side _again_. "Anything in particular?"

He looked over and frowned. "Huh?"

"On your mind, Sam. Anything particular on your mind," He rolled his eyes even if he felt more like pulling over and begging for forgiveness. _Maybe whimper a little?_

"Oh. No," Sam lingered this time. "Just…"

He let it hang and Dean had the strangest impulse to spill everything. "Thinking about Sonny?" Then again he'd never been good with follow-through.

"No," Sam turned away, but not all the way back to the window.

"Dad?" It was a fair question with the recent reveals, but all he got was another shake of the head. "Cass? Me?"

"I'm not thinking about anything, Dean," His voice was quiet.

Dean nodded, because _sure_ Sam wasn't thinking about anything. _Sure_ his little brother never went ominously quiet when he fixated on something. _Sure_ Sam had no reason to doubt anything in his life right now. "You know you can tell me, right? If something's worryin' you?"

Sam stared a second before turning back. "Yeah."

Dean nodded and sighed. That 'yeah' was a 'no' real as any 'no' he'd ever gotten. He wanted to call his brother on it, demand why the hell Sam was still so afraid of talking to him. Demand why he still looked like a kicked puppy whenever Dean got angry. Hell, he even had the sick urge to dredge up why Sam still flinched at his violent outbursts. "Yeah," But he never did.

He didn't notice his brother's quick peek and Sam didn't draw further attention to himself. There wasn't time. Not when the sign for Serenity Meadows appeared. They had a job to do.

* * *

It had eased his worry quite a bit seeing Dean's name on his old bed. Getting a chance to walk around the old farm. It was settling, he realized, the knowledge that his brother had plucked out two months of his life to come here. It was Dean's Stanford.

So Sam took a few moments whilst looking around to really look. Odd little things, like the plaque on the wall bore witness to Dean's presence in the house. Places he could imagine his brother sitting or working and almost see him.

He remembered his brother at sixteen. Dean had been solemn when it was just him and Sam, but at the same time oddly innocent. He used to wonder about little things. Sam remembered walks around new neighborhoods where Dean found something sufficiently awesome and pulled his brother out to look with the excitement of a kid.

"Sam?"

He looked up. The weather was nice. Not sunny, slightly cold even, but pleasant. He couldn't figure out what it was.

"Anything?"

He shook his head and came to rest his arms across from Dean on the car.

"Wanna go get somethin' to eat?"

He almost smiled before he nodded. "Sure."

He was quieter these days. They both were. His brother's quiet tended to unnerve Sam though. Dean would leave long, lingering looks when Sam's back was turned or his eyes averted.

Sam knew something was wrong. He knew they both _knew_ he knew. Or that Dean at least suspected. There was something going on with him that had his brother simultaneously soothed and worried. Anxious sometimes.

* * *

Yeah, Dean worried about a lot of things. Few things warranted more worry than others. Like when Sam would eventually figure out what Dean had been keeping from him. Like, what his reaction would be.

It wasn't the prospect of anger that worried Dean, because he had the strangest feeling that his brother's kneejerk reaction wouldn't be anger. He worried it might be something worse. Something more vulnerable.

He glanced over, mentally relishing another solved haunting, and lamented the pain he'd unintentionally caused the one person he loved more than himself. Because he was sure Sam wouldn't get mad when he found out. No. Not at all.

He worried Sam would break.

But when the kid thanked him and told him he could imagine how hard life had treated Dean, told him he appreciated the care one brother had put into the raising of another, Dean found it a little easier to ignore the rough patches. It warmed something too far down to consciously recognize it and besides, all he could think was, "Not really."

He smirked as they drove away.

* * *

END

AN: This was weird. Admittedly. Don't know quite what I had in mind, but I hope it at the very least didn't waste anyone's time, reading it :)


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